Opalescent I
by Iikku The Eyebrow Master
Summary: Feliks wouldn't call those people friends. He wouldn't call himself different. He wouldn't let anyone think he's weak. And he wouldn't let himself think himself to be lonely. Prequel to my other fic, "Glass". Rated M to be safe.


**It's been a while since I last was active here! O_O' I haven't really written anything Hetalia-related lately, but I've had this little thing saved on my laptop since October. I figured I could post this.**

**So this happens in the same universe as my other fic Glass, but it's not compulsory to read it as this has barely a plot and is just a tiny little snippet of something. It's a prequel, taking place a few months before the events of Glass. It's a part of three-part ficlet (okay that might be a wrong word for this) series and all of them are related to Glass, but instead of Arthur they focus on the other people in the fic. It doesn't have much of a plot alone as it was made to form a story with the other fics.**

**Opalescent I is about Arthur's "friend" Feliks. Arthur is in this fic too, giving a glimpse of what his life was before Lydia and Francis and everything.**

* * *

He might seem like a ditz, but Feliks wasn't stupid. Sure, he had some stupid ideas, and sometimes he pissed off the wrong people, but he survived. He always survived and that was the point. He didn't break down and hide behind someone else's back until the storm was gone.

Not that he could.

Feliks wasn't one of the popular kids in school. Not even close. He wasn't bullied, he wasn't discriminated, no, atleast he wouldn't admit that, but hell, he couldn't say he had many friends. The people he hung out with changed, left him and came back, or sometimes he left them and returned, but in the end, friendship was the wrong word for those relationship. Feliks believed friendship meant trust, and there was certainly very little trust between them. More like deals and business, the things that shouldn't see daylight didn't see it, and people who you owed favours to were on your list until you foud something you could pay the debt with, and then they were free to go, like the friendship was over. That kind of life Feliks was living, and it was fine. Atleast he had convinced himself to think so.

For sure, if he could choose his friends, he wouldn't go to those people.

The words people used to describe him seemed wrong and misleading. Different, it seemed to make him weird, retarded maybe. Queer, the tone it was said in made it sound unnatural and disgusting, amusing and something to be laughed at even. Bullied, it made him sound weak. Useless. Unable to take care of himself. That he was not. Feliks didn't need anyone's help. He knew who he was, he knew there was nothing wrong in him, and he was okay with himself. _He was fine, _he knew he was. The people who talked about him, they didn't know him, so they didn't matter, he told himself. Sometimes he just wanted his life to be a little less difficult, and that was when those "friends" came in use.

"Friends".

Lukas was creepy. He really was. He didn't smile much, and was often sarcastic and bitter. Feliks didn't even remember what was the reason behind their relationship, Lukas could have easily been one of the popular kids, he was from a wealthy family (how the wealth had been established in the first place, was a little bit on the illegal side, though) and wasn't half bad in looks, but usually the creepy kids end up alone, so maybe that's why they were together. Arthur was easier to understand; Another creepy kid, so to say, but the blonde was snappy and irritated, always stressing about his siblings. Arthur's mother was a junkie, and there was a hell of lot problems in the family, and he wasn't too fond of making friends, so the strange relationship was understandable, exchanging favours in order to survive. Then there was Yao, an older boy who was repeating classes. He had a bunch of siblings, and both parents opium addicts, a situation much like Arthur's, but the two of them didn't usually get along, and when they did, it was probably because they were changing favours or something. Yao liked to think he was the wise old man among them, and everyone should follow his rules, and that annoyed Arthur, who had some major authority issues.

Chaos ensued. Surely, these were not the people who you wished to have as your friends.

But as said, Feliks didn't have too many options.

So once again he found himself heading up the stairs, to the dim hallway upstairs, where the cigarette smoke never quite faded away, lingering on the walls and people and turning the air heavy and tense.

Today was one of the days when Arthur and Yao weren't at each other's throaths, but they certainly weren't the bestest of friends either; They were on the opposite ends of the bench, not really looking at each other but shooting nasty glares when ever they could while smoking. Lukas was sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall opposite to the bench, a glassy look in his eyes.

The bitter sweet smell of marijuana hit Feliks' nostrils. Ah. Lukas had found a new dealer.

Arthur was the first one to notice Feliks, nodding slightly and then returning to his former actions. Yao muttered something that resembled a greeting, Lukas didn't even realise his arrival. Feliks didn't really care, he just wished the boy hadn't been taken a trip too far, because that would lead into hell of a problem.

"Arthur", he said, "You owe me one, remember?"

The blonde glared Feliks. "Since when?"

"The bathroom. Like, two weeks ago. Remember?"

Arthur shrugged, but said yes. Of course he remembered, it didn't matter that he had been a little high, Feliks had blown his mind. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just a few of the usual clients, they need , like, a beating or something. Can you do that?"

"Not today. I have groceries to do."

"You totally don't", Feliks scoffed. Arthur always tried to slip away from the favours, saying he was busy, but usually he just lied and came up with something.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I do, wanker, you can't prove otherwise."

Feliks sighed, and moved on with the negotiations. "Tomorrow then?"

"We'll see."

"You will."

"_We'll see_."

It was as close to a yes as you could get, so Feliks quieted down and sat on the bench, a safe distance between both Arthur and Yao. The smell of the cigarettes was tempting, delicious, but Feliks tried to keep himself from thinking about it too much. Yao looked at him, confused.

"Aren't you going to take a smoke?" the Asian asked. Feliks shook his head.

"No. I'm trying to quit."

Arthur scoffed. "You can't", he said, kind of bitter, and Feliks knew perfectly well why; Arthur had tried to stop smoking so many times, yet he always fell for the cancer rolls.

"I totally can. Twenty on that", he said, smiling confidently. Arthur gave him a dry look. "I don't have a twenty."

"So you do think I can stop", Feliks grinned. Arthur shook his head.

"I just don't have a twenty. And I am not going to risk my money on something like that, especially when I don't have that money. And you can't quit because you need to get something in that empty head of yours, and smoke would be just fine."

"Arthur's right, you know. You wouldn't be able to stop even if you were taken to a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. You'd find a way to get cigarettes, even there", Yao commented, and Feliks rolled his eyes.

"Like, how? Whoring myself to mermaids?"

"For example."

"Those would be pretty traumatised mermaids after that", Arthur laughed. Feliks punched him on the shoulder, not really caring if he got hurt because Arthur is an ass, no, _arse_, most of the time.

"You don't seem to mind", Feliks said, and Arthur blushed a little, but gained his usual snarkiness back soon.

"I'm just being nice."

"You're failing, just totally failing. And usually people, like, pay compliments to the people they're being nice to, instead of showing their dick up someone's ass."

"Too bad."

Silence fell to the hallway, only some distant noises from the school yard and floors down were audible. A strange smile had crept on Lukas' face, and Feliks found himself staring the fair-haired boy, wondering what he was thinking of. It seemed the effect of the drug was fading, since the usual talkativeness and laughing fits weren't present.

"What happened, anyway?" Arthur suddenly asked, just out of the blue. Feliks blinked, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"What did your 'clients' do this time?"

Feliks bit his lip, his gaze drifting to his shoes. "It's not you business", he said, trying to sound cool and not blush as he felt like doing. Arthur's eyes were drilling into his skull, he could feel that.

"Really now." Arthur' voice was dry and sarcastic, and he could imagine the unamused smirk on his face.

"Yeah", Feliks spat, "Really."

"It's not my business but I am supposed to give them a beating."

"Yeah."

"You're daft."

"And you're not?"

Arthur gave him the bird.

* * *

Feliks didn't have the money to buy the things he wanted. That sucked, there were so many things he wished he could own, and knowing they would never be his was too painful.

That was, of course, if you chose to be restricted by the issue of money.

Feliks had been eyeing that one jacket for weeks; He didn't know the owner's name, just who he hung out with and that he was one of the "popular" kids. The jacket was just perfect, two beautiful lines of shiny golden buttons running down the front, a shade of midnight blue that looked gorgeous in the fluorescent lights of the hallways, a simple collar with a few ornaments. It was everything he had been looking for. A few alterations, sleeves cut, changing the buttons and remodeling the collar and no one would notice the origin of it.

Feliks decided skipped the final class; Instead of attending biology, he followed the jacket, or, well, technically, he was following the owner of it. The boy placed the piece of clothing on the locker, probably too paranoid to leave it among the rest of the jackets (not that Feliks could blame him for that), and followed his friends to the class room, chatting and laughing. Feliks, luckily unnoticed, found himself a nice spot on the stairs, he could see the hallway from there but no one could see him. Perfect. He smiled, and sat down to wait for classes to start, so he could finish his deed. He watched as the students slowly disappeared into the classes, then soon followed by the teachers, and then there was silence, not a single soul in the hallway. Better safe than sorry, though, he mused, and decided to give himself a few more minutes, just incase someone was running late. He didn't want to be caught dead stealing the jacket, no. There were no cameras in their school, it couldn't afford them, so there was no worry about the big brother watching him. The eyes of the living were a problem, though, and Feliks would not risk getting caught.

The sounds from the classrooms died, everyone focusing on their studies, and Feliks decided this was a good moment to move. He stood up, walking down the stairs, listening carefully to any possible signs of someone suddenly appearing, and headed towards the locker, eyes on the prize. He would have to climb on it, and that might make a noise if he wasn't careful, he figured, studying the metal block. It appeared though Lady Luck was on his side, though, as someone had emptied their locker and left it open, just perfect to be used as a foothold.

Feliks braced himself, pulling his shirt down and jeans higher (and on the side cursed himself for choosing to wear skin-tight jeans, they were not practical for a thing like this), and lifted his foot on the shelf inside the locker, reaching up for the top. He got a good grab, and pulled himself up, greeting the wonderful sight infront of him with a wide smile.

"What are you doing?"

A voice, unfamiliar to him, startled Feliks, and he almost lost his balance. He turned his head to see who had asked the question, seeing a brown-haired, skinny boy with absolutely, completely, utterly _boring_ clothes (if he hadn't been so surprised, he would've laughed at himself for taking a notice of such matter). He stared at the stranger, paralysed by the sudden appearance and the embarrassement of being caught. His cheeks were burning hot, he was blushing, he could tell.

The boy stared him, a slightly intimidated look on his face. He looked as if he was going to shrink away, regretting what he had just done, probably debating whether he should stay or just leave and pretend it never happened. Realising this, Feliks regained his usual confidence, and took a sour face.

"It's not your business", he spat, and the boy took a step back, a flustered blush creeping on his face. Ah, he _was _afraid, Feliks noticed, and continued, acting up to his bad reputation.

"If you tell anyone you saw me, I will get you beaten", he said, meeting the eyes of the newcomer. Despite the frightened appearance, there was a strange determination in the boy's eyes, and it surprised him.

"It's not you jacket", the boy commented, making Feliks snort. "It is now."

The boy didn't say anything, he just stared at Feliks, making him feel uneasy.

"Didn't I tell you I will get you beaten? Because I totally will."

"I do martial arts."

"I have crazy friends."

"I can handle them", the boy said, and Feliks frowned, glaring him. He still looked like a lost little bird, but he didn't seem to withdraw.

"Will you tell on me?" he asked, voice icy, genuinely afraid now but trying not to show it. He _wanted_ that jacket so bad, but if people knew about him stealing stuff it would lead into serious trouble, which he certainly did not have time for.

The boy bit his lip, swallowing hard. "No", he said, after a long silence, and Feliks grinned, relieved. He grabbed the jacket and jumped down, smiling cockily.

"Figured so", he lied, and stuffed the jacket into his bag, not even bothering to pay attention to the other student anymore. He was about to leave, when his voice stopped him again.

"That's kind of stupid, is it not?"

Feliks' gaze found the other's eyes, now serious, and more confident, drilling into his skull. He was taller than Feliks, way taller actually. Feliks frowned, determined not to show his fear.

"Stuffing it into my bag? Should I, like, put it on and put on a little fashion show, then?" he snarled, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"No", the boy shook his head, "stealing. I meant that."

"Like, who are you to judge that?

The boy didn't say anything, just pressed his lips together so they formed a thin line. Feliks felt a little proud, in an odd way, for being able to intimidate someone so easily, and someone who was clearly bigger, and probably twice as strong as he was, too. The boy seemed pretty harmless and shy, though, so he figured he was pretty safe, as long as he was too afraid to play the role of the snitch.

"If you don't know who you are talking to, then you should totally shut up", Feliks said, folding his arms on his chest and shooting icy looks under his eyebrows.

"You're Feliks Łukasiewicz , right? From class C", the boy said, stuttering slightly. Feliks bit his lip.

"So what if I am? You're not going to do anything with that information."

No response was received, so Feliks decided to forget him, and turned around.

"You better make sure I will not hear about this incident, like, ever again, because I will totally get your ass kicked", he said, and began to walk away, heart beating faster than it should've.

That could've ended up nastily.

* * *

"I hear there's a student in our school who interests the junior basketball league."

Lukas' voice was monotonous, as usual, face uninterested. Yao, Arthur and Feliks stared at the Norwegian, confusion on their faces.

"There's a junior basketball league?" Feliks asked.

"You follow basketball?" Yao's question followed, surprise obvious in his voice.

"Are you trying to do small talk?" Arthur said, voice more insulting than curious, and Lukas shrugged.

"I figured I could give it a try. Small talk is not that big back home", he said, a shy smile escaping from him because of his dry pun. Arthur was unimpressed, and lit up his cigarette.

"I know that we don't want to talk about ourselves, because were scum, but honestly, that is just boring, that basketball shite", he said, and took a long smoke, face grumpy and sour. Feliks and Yao ignored him, neither of them really interested in the subject but they had nothing better to talk about, so it would do.

"Where did you find out about this? Are you into basketball?" Yao repeated his former question, unable to imagine Lukas in a sports crowd.

"Nah, not that interested really. I overheard it back in gym class from the jocks. Said the name was Taris or something. Or Tonis. I don't know."

Arthur muttered something about them being ridiculous, the complainment ignored by the others. It was rather boring, really, their usual routine, just sitting there, smoking, making sure Lukas didn't overdose, sometimes arguing about something. They didn't talk about themselves, they knew better, keeping their problems as their own information and not getting too deep, not wanting to form close relations with each other, because they were all just trouble, dangerous and depressing.

"I don't know any Tonises or Tarises", Yao said, leaning on the wall and eyeing Arthur's cigarette hungrily, unable to have a smoke himself since he was broke, and was too proud to bum one from Arthur. Lukas shrugged.

"It might've been something else. I didn't listen that carefully."

Feliks scoffed.

"Then why did you bring it up? That's like, totally idiotic. Like, you can't just start talking about something like that and then, like, say you don't know a shit."

"Doesn't matter. The guy is on class D, if I heard right."

"So you do know a shit", Feliks said, and Lukas shrugged.

"No, I don't", he responded, and Arthur scoffed bitterly. "Have a conversation with him when he's high, sure, that's easy. He makes absolutely no sense."

"Atleast he's trying to make a conversation. You just argue and like, be angry and shit! That's totally not cool."

Arthur, as a mature person, answered by flipping the bird. Feliks punched him on the shoulder, making Arthur drop his cigarette.

"Oh fuck you!" the blonde shouted, rising a smirk on Feliks' face. "You totally deserved that, bitch."

"Ai-yaah...You're so childish", Yao sighed, his comment going ignored as Feliks and Arthur found themselves in another delightful argument. Lukas watched the show, a pout forming on his face.

"I wanted to talk about basketball", he muttered quietly, beginning to plot a revenge. No one ignored Lukas Bondevik's interest in basketball, even when he was high.

Well, that was the only time he was interested in basketball. It was boring as hell.

* * *

**I'll do my best to get my shit together and write the other three fics, but I'm not making any promises here :/**


End file.
